After that event, I tried to recover from the pains of jealousy that still tugged at my heartstrings, the vibrations of which felt like a guitar whose strings have been plucked with the notes seeming to last an eternity.
I am not a dating app girl. I admit I have never tried one, but they all strike me as so unappealing. I want to get to know people as who they are, not a selfie. So much of my attraction to people comes from how intelligent they are. If the impression a person gives me is that they are an idiot, I would never date that person.
It’s like I have a sign you see at amusement parks: intelligence must be this tall to ride.
As I wondered if I needed to change and if I need to take more risks (my cautiousness is almost a 100% on the IPIP-NEO personality test), I began trolling (or is it more trawling?) through the dregs of what Craigslist has to offer. I found mostly dick pics (definitely not interested in meeting the face of someone who puts that in their post), and then one pictureless post that stood out among the sea of dicks, like the sight of some beautiful tropical island within one’s reach who would otherwise drown in all that effluvia.
We exchanged a few emails. It was interesting and exciting. His name was David, and we asked questions back and forth about music relationships, bucket lists. Our exchange lasted about a week before he fell off the radar. “Fires at work” he sent a few days after my last email. I responded with a short note, he did the same with more news about needing to travel for some time, and I couldn’t tell if it was a polite way of ending the exchange. It was unfortunate.
But his posting inspired me to write my own. I held my breath and posted an ad on Craiglist.